Science Ethics
by Wepon
Summary: It had all started with one, damned quote. A single question meant to play god and toy with humans in a way that would've been seen as unethical by most. Transforming a person's very humanity into something sewn into circuitry and metallic sentience.
1. Wheatley: Just another Bloke

**Science Ethics**

A fic by Wepon

Note; This fic requires a bit of backstory to it. My headcanon for Wheatley is that he used to work at Aperture Science, much like in the way Caroline did before Aperture went to hell. Now that that's said and done, I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I had fun writing it. Feel free to leave reviews!

-(|o|)-

The sharp tone of a whistle echoed down the pristine halls of Aperture Science, bouncing off the whitewashed walls and coming back to the tall, blonde-haired janitor's ears. He stood on tiptoe, a ratty rag clutched in between his greasy, gloved fingers as he dragged it over a window looking into a rather posh conference room. He drew back from his work, nodding his head in approval as a smile revealing rows of crooked-teeth materialized on his face. _"_Brilliant! Now I only 'ave half of the ole' office compound to finish!" He placed his hands on his hips, an eyebrow raised as he did so.

The sound of high heels over linoleum tile struck his ear drums like a bell. Instantly, he lifted his hand, biting the end of the rag and fumbling with his collar. Pulling out a dirtied pair of semi-circled glasses, he pushed them up the bridge of his nose and blinked, vision swimming. The man's vision was fine of course, he just thought they made him look smart. He was what, in his words he would call a 'numpty'. A numpty surrounded by a bunch of boffins too engrossed in their 'scientific studies' to deal with the meager tasks he performed on his side of the facility complex.

He'd been stuck with tasks the scientists just _didn't_ want to do. Cleaning the offices, sweeping the floors, and keeping everything wreathed in a blinding pallor. The janitor sure didn't know about science, but he could fix anything with two toothpicks, a toothbrush, and his own weight in duct tape.

However, the footsteps down the hall dragged him back into reality, and his mouth opened, dropping the rag into his hands. Turning around, blue eyes focused on the familiar figure of Mr. Johnson's secretary. The woman strode up to him, an eyebrow raising critically as she surveyed the spotlessness of the area around her, dark eyes then drifting down to the man before her.

"'Ello!" He remarked cheerily, grin returning to his face.

"Mr. Johnson sent for you, Mr.." The woman, called Caroline if he remembered correctly, flipped through the clipboard held in her hands, eyes flashing in recognition. "Wheatley?" The janitor nodded. "That's my name, don't wear it out." She nodded disinterestedly, eyes squinting as if she struggled to read words on the clipboard before her.

"You remember when Mr. Johnson asked you about working on the Turret Redemption line? Before you were.. usurped, per se?" Wheatley blinked, that didn't seem like the correct word for it, but he simply shrugged, nodding. He'd heard stories about that part of Aperture. The caretaker of the old place had went insane. Chopped up his entire staff. Of robots. Needless to say, he was quite okay with not getting the job. "Well, you have been appointed to tending to the test subjects, in the stasis wing." Caroline pointed in It's general direction, cocking her head to the side in question.  
>"Can't you just watch em' on your telly?"<p>

"We need someone to awake them once It's time for their testing period."  
>"Ah, good point, good point.."<p>

Voice trailed off as hand placed itself on his chin, eyebrow raised quizzically as he mulled it over. "Sounds good," He finally said, grinning.

"But-" Caroline interjected, tapping one finger against the hard back of the clipboard. "But?" Wheatley repeated, head tilting. "Mr. Johnson also told me that in order for you to take this job, you must have your memory.. backed up on a disc for future.. uses." A steely glare was shed on him, a very critical eyebrow raised. Wheatley thought about this for all of two seconds when he jumped up, mind set in stone. "I'll do it! What's the worst at' could happen?"

No one questioned the absence of a certain custodian a few weeks later.

-(|o|)-


	2. Foreword: The Ethics of Science

**The Ethics of Science**

**Author's Note:** _Woah, didn't know I'd get so many story-watches and positive comments on both here AND dA! Guess I should write more! Why not put in my headcanon on all cores? I have decided to write all of the core's human counterparts, and the leading up to their fates. I hope you enjoy this collection of small drabbles, and feel free to review and point out flaws if you see fit! I will try to update weekly if I'm lucky! This minichapter will just introduce you to the main scenario, not much to say, skippable, even. With that said, I hope you enjoy this sort of 'foreword', and on with the show~!_

-(|o|)-

They were all humans. All of them. Adults, parents, _children._ It had all started with one, damned quote. A single question meant to play god and toy with humans in a way that would've been seen as unethical by most. Transforming a person's very humanity into something sewn into circuitry and cold, metallic sentience.

_The point is, if we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's personality and intelligence on one?_

Unethical wasn't a word heard around Aperture. Most test subjects were catapulted at things such as military androids, insanity, and the threat of dying. Only to be brought out of stasis once more, doomed to the repetition of tests. And then there were the cores. Small, whitewashed spheres containing the personality of a living, human being.

No one had been spared from the sickening ideal, women, men, children, staff, even unruly test subjects had been 'exclusively selected' for these 'ethical procedures.'

But the Ethics of Science had no part in a game played by those who were willing to play god.

-(|o|)-


End file.
